


The Girl Child

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/M, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By Briar.The story starts out with one small girl defying priests and warlords in the altar room. This small girl reminds Ares of another small girl named Xena.





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. If you have questions, you may contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).
> 
> _This story was originally written by beloved fandom member, Briar. Tragically, Briar passed away several years prior to the archive's closing. As the archive had permission to house Briar's works prior to their passing, we place this fic here in memorial and memory, and to share their work with the world. Briar, you are missed._
> 
> **Here are Briar's original Disclaimers and Notes:**  
>  Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to any characters from Xena:Warrior Princess, I am only borrowing them for the length of this story. This story is for the amusement and entertainment of my friends in the Ares and Xena Shippers club. I promise to return the characters intact when I am finished with them. I am making no money from this story.

There had been many ceremonies during this day. Several warlords had made conquests and brought loot to give in sacrifice. There were great casks of wine, jewels in abundance, weapons of every type and design and other miscellaneous items. Several men and priests remained behind after all the others had left. There were small groups gathered around the room. Most were in quiet conversation. A small girl with honey colored hair, dressed in a lovely blue frock and sandals came strolling out of one of the passageways. She looked around herself with amazement. She was admiring the things on the altar. One of the warlords noticed the child, and said "Here, now, what do you think you're doing in here. This is the Temple of Ares the God of War. He doesn't want children wandering through his temple." The child stood there with hands on hips and said "He does too." Several priests came quickly over. No one knew who the child was. Two of the priests took the child by each arm, and began to lead her toward the exit. "Lord Ares doesn't have time for children." Another warrior said with a grin. "Let me be the judge of that!" a loud voice answered. To their consternation Ares appeared upon the dais of his throne and stepped down to the floor. The child withdrew her arms from the grasp of the priests, put both hands on her hips again, and began tapping the toe of one sandal on the floor, looking every inch the exasperated mother. "You promised me a bedtime story, and you forgot." He walked over, lifted the child in his arms, positioned her on his hip, and carried her back to his throne. He lifted her, seated himself, and took the child on his lap. Then he had asked what kind of story she wanted to hear.

The room had become deathly still. Warriors looked at warlords who looked at priests who shrugged. Not a sound was heard as the child said. "I want a nice story." "Hmmm... a nice story huh?" he asked. She nodded. Ares seemed to think for a moment then smiled. "I think I have exactly the right story." He went on to tell the story of a young man who had gone off to be by himself for a while. He was very unhappy. He had no-one to love him. His parents loved him, but it just wasn't the same. He wanted someone who loved just him. He created a small magical ball of force, like a lightning bolt, and began tossing it from hand to hand. "Like this?" questioned the child. She held out one hand, and a bright light appeared in her hand. She began to toss it up in the air and catch it. "Yes, just like that." Ares went on. The young man had continued to do this for a few minutes, tossing it higher and higher, until it struck a branch. The light disappeared in a shower of sparks. The young man had watched in amazement. Suddenly he felt a strange warmth behind his back. He had quickly moved away and had seen the tree slowly lose it's bark and branches. The upper branches had shrunk and become a very long head of hair. The truck had divided into two legs. The roots had drawn out of the ground and become toes. The two main up reaching branches had turned into arms, and a beautiful woman with ground length hair stood there. "My mama has long hair like that."she commented. "Yes, I know." Ares had replied. He went on to tell the story of how the young man and the young woman had gotten married. "And they had a little girl with honey blond hair, a blue dress, and sandals." Ares finished with a grin. "That's me!" the child cried with delight. She began to bounce up and down on his lap, clapping her hands together. "More, more, tell me another story." she demanded.

It was just at that moment that a tall good looking man with a slim blond woman entered the room. "So there you are Laurel." she exclaimed. "No, no more stories tonight. If you behave yourself, your grandfather just might tell you another one tomorrow." Over many protestations that she really wasn't tired, that she really was being good, and she really did deserve another story, she was lifted and carried from the room. One of the older priests walked quickly over, bowed and said "My Lord Evander, It is truly a privilege for me to welcome you to the temple. It has been years since the last time I saw you. And how is the Lady Daphne, she's looking well. I didn't recognize your daughter, or there would have been no question of her right to be here." Evander accepted the greeting genially, and apologized for the antics of his daughter Laurel. Ares sat there with a grin on his face. "She was really something, did you see how she stood there with her hands on her hips and defied anyone to remove her?" he asked. He continued to chuckle softly. Warlords, warriors and priests slowly let out a long held breath. They had nearly made a fatal mistake. If any harm had come to the grandchild of their Lord Ares, someone would have paid, and paid, and paid.

It was remarkable that such a young child could handle the power that she had exhibited. Many minor gods were unable to create a bright fireball like that and she was only a demi-god. Her mother was the child of Peneus, the god of the river. As a Nymph she had run the forests alongside the river. Her father had wanted her to marry, but she wanted her freedom. One day Apollo had seen her, and instantly fallen in love. He had pursued her until she was exhausted. She had finally turned to her father for help. She told her father that she had no desire to marry, and would prefer anything rather than continue this present course of action. Her father had nodded, and her toes had slowly grown out into roots and her legs grew together. Bark formed on her torso, legs and feet. She raised her arms over her head, and her arms and hair had grown into branches covered with lovely green laurel leaves. Since he couldn't have her for his wife, Apollo had taken of her branches, woven a wreath of laurel, and placed it upon his head to signify his conquest. The Roman Emperors had worn a token laurel circlet ever since.

The area was quickly cleared, with warlords, warriors, and priests each filing out of the massive double doors to the room. The last two priests closed them behind themselves. Ares and his son sat there in quiet conversation for a while, then got up and ambled back into the private quarters. When they reached them, they were greeted by Daphne. Laurel was already asleep. Ares waved one hand and goblets of wine appeared on the table between the two divans. With them was a tray of snacks, rolls, cheese, meat, fruit and other things to appeal to their appetite. Ares was still laughing about Laurel's antics. The sight of one very small girl child defying all those warlords and warriors reminded him of another girl child that he had admired from the time she was small.... Xena.


	2. PART TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for notes.

While still small, Xena had admired fighting men such as her dad. She had sat on his lap and heard about conquests and sacrifices for the favor of their god, Ares. "What kind of sacrifices?" she had asked. Her father had told about giving a share of their plunder at the altar of Ares. One day she had taken some fruit from their neighbor's tree. When she thought about it, it was a form of plunder, and she decided to share it with the god. There was a large flat rock in the woods behind her mother's tavern. She made her way there, and placed one of the fruit upon the rock. "Oh great lord Ares, please accept this humble offering, a share of my plunder." she stated firmly. She had then bowed formally and left. Unknown to her, Ares had been watching, and had been touched by the gesture. A child, and a girl child at that, had just made a formal offering to him. It was one small fruit, but it was an honest share of the fruit she had taken. 

Years had gone by and, every so often, she would remember to make a small offering. It was always done in a formal manner just as she had heard from her father. Ares had taken to watching this rock. It was technically a puny gift that she offered, but it was always a good share of whatever she had gotten. If her mother gave her several cookies, one went on the rock, with proper ritual. Cyrene baked good cookies. Xena always bowed formally at the conclusion of her offering. He was actually touched. Children seldom even thought of the gods, let alone worshipped them formally. He began watching her at other times. He was amused, at first, when she took up a wooden sword to fight with her brother. They had been so awkward when they first started, but little by little, they began to improve. Their movements became fluid and graceful. Their speed also improved dramatically. The girl was better than her brother, but then again she was a year older.

A much older boy had picked on her little brother, and Xena had joined in to protect him. She took a terrible beating, but wouldn't quit. The other boy had finally given up because he was just too tired to continue. She had stood there, hands on hips, and ridiculed him for giving up so easily. Her face was a mess, black eye, bloody nose, split lip and furthermore a mass of bruises all over her body. Her spirit was unbroken. She had held both hands over her face to try to protect her clothing. It was a wasted gesture. Her nose was broken, and bleeding copiously. The lip was split and also bleeding. She made her way to the rock. It would be terrible to waste this blood. When she arrived there, she placed both bloody hands on the rock. She was bent over so that the dripping blood from her nose was also falling on the rock. She began the formal ritual of a blood sacrifice. Usually the blood of an animal was used, occasionally the blood of an enemy would be shed. On very rare occasions a warrior or warlord would make a cut on his hand, allow the blood to drip on the altar, and make a formal blood sacrifice. This was to show that one, he was unafraid of pain and two, he would gladly shed his blood for the God of War. This girl child had just shown that same bravery. 

The blood slowly began to disappear into the rock. The blood on her hands also disappeared. She felt a tingling in her nose and lip. The pain left. She inspected her face with wondering hands. There was no more blood, and the split lip and broken nose were healed. She retained the black eye and bruises, but even the blood on her clothes was gone. The blood sacrifice had been accepted in full. This was only the first blood sacrifice she would make to the God of War. The others came after she was grown up. Her mother took one look at her, and raised a ruckus. "Who did this? I'll take my broomstick to him." This was not an idle threat. Cyrene had used that broom on several of the youths in the village. One of the bigger boys had sassed her one day and she had driven him home with that broom swatting his behind all the way. As if that wasn't enough, his mother had continued the punishment as soon as she had heard the story, only his mother had used a belt. That broomstick was a fearsome weapon in Cyrene's hands.

Years had passed. The raid on the village had been terrible. Xena's brother and several other youths had been killed by Cortese and his men. Xena's blood had boiled with hatred after the raid, and she had decided to take formal training in warfare and weapons. She had gone to the Temple of Ares, made a sacrifice and dedicated herself to vengeance. One of his lieutenants had promptly begun her formal training. She had quickly surpassed most of the older recruits. Men in their twenties couldn't outfight the teenaged girl. She soon learned the spins, leaps and flips. Her sword work was exceptional. Soon she had begun her training under Ares himself. He was impressed with her many talents, so impressed in fact that he made the next move.


	3. PART THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 for notes.

The next blood sacrifice had been the one where she was formally made the Chosen of Ares. After the seduction, the stained portion of sheet had been placed upon the altar. The ceremony had been completed by burning the dual stains as a sacrifice, thus binding them together for life. There was no way to undo this ceremony. From this time on Xena was instantly aware of his presence even though he was invisible. She had gone on to become one of his greatest warlords. She had been known as Xena, Destroyer of Nations, and was his pride and joy. Her cunning had been legendary. She had outmaneuvered some of the greatest generals of her time, often winning against incredible odds. 

Even her turning away from him hadn't changed the situation. She continued to be aware of him, and he continued to come when she called. That ceremony was binding on both parties. Her denial had no effect on the circumstances. She had been made his Chosen and that was final. He had made many attempts to get her back. Some of those attempts had been poorly chosen, causing the rift to deepen. He wasn't used to having to chase after anyone. He was the God of War. Mortals were supposed to run to do his bidding, fear his anger, wish to please him. Xena obviously wasn't most mortals. She went her own way. She had cleverly escaped most of the traps he had laid. She had even set him up for a fall several times. Each such maneuver only made him want her more. At first he had been disgusted with the new Xena. Her do good attitude had been gotten from his half brother, and reinforced by that pestiferous bard. Soon, however, he had become aware that she was growing into something even more desirable. She had strength in all facets of her life. He had to have her back. She made him feel differently than any other ever had. 

He had known many women intimately over the eons of his existence. The pleasures of the chase had soon given over to the hohum of indifference. No one had been able to keep his interest for long. That is, no one except Xena. Their time together had been tumultuous. She was not only a complaisant bed mate, as so many others were, she could also be aggressive. The first time had come as a shock. She had suddenly flipped him over on his back, and pinned him. She had then gone on to kiss and pleasure him until he was totally out of control. That had been a unique experience. He had always been the aggressor before. Their many sexual exploits had been remarkable. She had incredible stamina and had been able to make him break a sweat on more than one occasion. Gods do not ordinarily sweat. This only made it the more unbelievable that she had done so. He had tried bribery, threats, and other means to get her back. Nothing had worked. 

One night he realized that he had never told her that he loved her. He just had not been able to tell her to her face about his feelings. He wasn't supposed to be able to have these feelings. He was the God of War. Anger, arrogance, lust, possessiveness, were all within his purview. The softer feelings were not. He appeared at her bedside. She was staying at her mother's house. He stood there for a long moment , looking at her sleeping form. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at him. "Ares...what in Tartarus are you doing here?" He continued to look at her wordlessly for a moment, with the strangest expression on his face. She had never seen it before. It seemed to blend embarrassment, shyness, and other unspecified emotions. Now she was worried. She sat up. He began to stammer. He just couldn't seem to get the words out. The frustration was showing clearly on his face, she was perplexed. She had never seen him like this. "Just calm down, take it one word at a time, you can do it." she encouraged. "Here, sit." she motioned at the edge of the bed. He seated himself slowly, still looking at her with that strange expression. He murmured softly "Xena......I love you." She was tempted to laugh at first, but soon realized that he was perfectly serious. How could this be, he had never even hinted at love. She was familiar with his lust. That was a known equation. This was something different. He acted as though he was expecting the worst. He had already drawn back, and was preparing to get up and leave. She grabbed him by the arm and restrained him. "Sit." she said. He looked at her with rising hope in his eyes. 

She was still of two minds. He had pulled some terrible stunts in the past, leaving her with a bad taste in her mouth. He had tried threats and bribery. He had tried to work a deal. Each time she had refused him. She knew that he had felt some hurt at each of those times. Apparently the hurt had gone deeper than she had thought. He had always done something dreadful in return. He sat there with mingled hope and despair on his face. "You love me?" she questioned. He simply nodded. "Say it again." she ordered. He again began to stutter. "I.. I.. I.. I love you." he finally got out. Seeing him in this state moved her in a way all the threats and bluster never had. She reached up, drew his head down, and kissed him gently. He accepted the kiss. It was simply accepted, not demanded. She drew back and really looked at him. There was no hint of his former arrogance. He was in the unusual position of supplicant. He desperately wanted her love, but was no longer demanding that love. She kissed him again, with more feeling, he responded by holding her snugly against himself. He began to stroke her hair, the line of her jaw, down her back to her waist. The kisses were becoming more urgent now. He still wasn't making any attempt to go beyond kisses. Finally the intensity was reaching the point of discomfort to both of them. Xena drew back. He released his grasp of her and moved as if to leave. He had accepted her withdrawal graciously. She moved to take his arm again. "Take me with you." she remarked.

The look on his face was remarkable, disbelief, then a growing hope. She said again, "Take me with you." He had clasped her within his embrace, lifted her into his arms, and disappeared. They had reappeared in his bedchamber. He had placed her on one of the divans. He had then served a light meal with wine. He had spent most of the time just looking at her rather than eating. She had snacked for a few minutes, drank one glass of wine, then arose. She took him by the hand and led him toward the bed. She released his hand for a moment, lifted her shift over her head, and tossed it back toward the divan. He quickly divested himself of his leathers. They slowly rediscovered each other's bodies. Neither was in a hurry. This was a whole new episode in their lives. Xena had finally been persuaded that he did indeed love her. Love was such a foreign sensation for Ares, that it had taken years for him to identify it as such. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He had finally gotten Xena back into his arms and had no intention of doing anything to ruin that fact. How they were ever going to explain their love to their families and to the bard was another question. They say time heals all wounds, he fervently hoped so. He wanted to be together with Xena forever. 

The End


End file.
